Atop An Apple Tree
by MockingjaysAndKlaine
Summary: This is a Glee/Hunger Games crossover centered around Klaine with blink-and-you'll-miss-it Finchel and Brittana. Basically Glee characters in the Hunger Games setting. Rated T for (duh) violence, character death, and possible mild profanity. *ON HIATUS* I will return! Not abandoning!
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hello! This is my first fanfic EVER. I'll admit, I prompted myself. This is Glee characters in the Hunger Games setting, centered around Klaine with blink-and-you'll-miss-it Finchel and Brittana. Rated T for (duh) violence and character death. Possible mild profanity. Chapter One is just the intro, and I promise they'll get longer. Special thanks to my beta Moony- You know who you are! THANK YOU! Okay, I'm gonna stop rambling and get to the story.**

Chapter One- The Reaping

"Blaine Anderson!"

When that name was called - the name of the person I truly loved, the name I breathed in between sweet kisses - my heart stopped. This was the reaping for the 150th Annual Hunger Games. The sixth Quarter Quell.

No, I thought, This has to be some kind of mistake. Blaine, who seemed to have lost the ability to move, was an age group younger than I, so he was in the section in front of me. All eyes were on him. My brain was slowly processing this. How much time had passed? Seconds? It seemed like hours.

District 11's escort, Gino Hazelton, cleared his throat. "Um, Blaine Anderson?"

The crowd parted to let him through. He stepped forward, slowly and surely. He was strong, I had always known that. He didn't seem to hesitate. Three Peacekeepers walked behind him. He climbed up the three short stairs, each step echoing across the silent crowd, then turned to face our district.

I forgot how to feel. I forgot how to move. My confusion allowed room for a single thought: the last time I would ever see my boyfriend was when he was being slaughtered on TV.

I didn't realize I was crying until someone wiped a tear off my cheek: Becky. She had Down's syndrome, but she still wasn't exempt from the Games. She hugged me across the waist, and I hugged her back.

But wait, the rational part of my brain said, why were the boys called first?

"And now, for the ladies!" Gino crossed the stage and stuck his overly-fake-tanned hand into the bowl. He swirled around the tiny slips of paper, picked one out, and strode back to the microphone.

"Kurt Hummel."

**Please review! Thanks for reading; Updates to come!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: This chapter is fairly long, and provides background information on Kurt's childhood. I wrote this while I was highly caffeinated, so bear with me.**

**Special Thanks to Mlle. Moony for dealing with my annoying texts/emails and for making my good writing great.**

Chapter 2- Goodbye and Hello  


I remember only a few details of the next hour. Being pushed onstage by Peacekeepers. Carol and Dad crying. Not shaking Blaine's hand, but hugging him. Two boys in the crowd yelling at us. In the Justice Building, my dad promising to set this right, and giving me my token, a delicate-looking golden chain bracelet with a charm bearing the word "Courage". Hugging him. Being ushered into a car, then onto a train. Blacking out.

I dreamed of my childhood.

My earliest memory is of my dad. He was lying on his bed, still in his work clothes, sobbing as he clutched an old picture and the golden bracelet I was now wearing. I now know that the picture was my parents' wedding photo. When he saw me enter, he cried even harder. He blubbered something along the lines of "looks just like his mother" and burst into a new wave of tears. That was the day my mother died. Peacekeepers had seen her eating an apple from our orchard, which technically belonged to the Capitol. She was killed on the spot. I was five years old.

Flash forward three years. By now, the Hummels and Andersons had merged our two small, adjacent apple orchards into one. We lived in one large, almost mansion-like home. My dad was getting married to Carol, a lady who had just moved here from District 3. I threw myself into the preparations, helping Carol design her dress, teaching my dad what a cummerbund was, and appointing myself best man, maid of honor, ring bearer, and flower girl. I even sewed my own suit.

When I was eleven, the Capitol gave us a bonus if we promised to use a new type of apple tree. The breed was genetically mutated, so the apple trees were now forty to fifty feet high. I would find refuge up on the highest branches whenever I got overwhelmed or sad, which happened all too often in Panem. We now had extra money to spend on ourselves, something that had almost never been possible before. Nowadays, the family business is more like a corporate empire. We're kind of like celebrities in 11. Correction: I was.

Blaine and I started dating about two years ago. We told our parents together. They were surprisingly accepting and supportive of our relationship. More than once, Blaine and I risked death to sneak out after curfew and climb one of the trees in the orchard. This seemed to be where our sweetest kisses were: atop a crisp apple tree in the dead of fall, the breeze gently blowing around us. The world felt perfect, if just for a moment.

There were tears on my pillow when I woke up. I wasn't surprised.

The blaring red numbers on the alarm clock next to me said 4:17 AM. I lay under a fuzzy comforter on a huge bed. I still wore my clothes from yesterday.

Yesterday.

The Reaping.

_How is this possible?_ I thought. _How could I be the girl tribute? Is this even legal? How could anyone be that stupid?_

Then I remembered. This was the Quarter Quell. The theme this year was a repeat of the first Quell, with a twist. The children voted for their tributes, and each vote went in the reaping ball once. Volunteers weren't allowed. The election had taken place at school. The guys must have thought it was a laugh; they all hated me anyway.

Again, I glanced at my clock: 5:09. I figured I might as well get up, so I dressed in some clothes I found in my closet (a simple white tee and black jeans) and attempted to complete my moisturizing routine with the bar of soap and the travel size bottle of lotion I found in my bahtroom. After deeming myself presentable, I exited my room and found my way to the dining car. I grabbed a blueberry muffin (Blaine's favorite) and some kind of apple pastry, then put them on a plate and sat down.

I took a bite of the pastry. It tasted like home, and it brought back so many memories: harvesting the fruit with my dad, packing it in crates to send to the Capitol; Blaine's sweet kisses atop the tallest apple trees. Teardrops were falling before I knew it. I dropped the pastry, and sat there, crying in silence.

I would never have that life again. Either I would go home a victor and lose Blaine forever, or I would die and leave my dad and Carol to grieve for me. Of course, the odds of victory were never in my favor. Best-case scenario, Blaine and I would both die and meet again in some obscure after-life.

It was then that I started thinking like a tribute. I was decent with knives, but that, unfortunately, was my only offensive strength (as far as I was aware). Since I used to sneak out of the house with Blaine all the time, I had rather amazing night vision. I was mentally reviewing which wild plants I was likely to encounter when Gino, followed by Blaine, entered the dining car. Gino went straight for the food, but Blaine walked over to me, kissing me ever so lightly on the forehead and taking the chair next to mine. I handed him the muffin, which he didn't eat. Gino sat down carelessly, his plate piled high with eggs, bacon, sausages, and biscuits. He stared across at us, holding a mug of what smelled like coffee and a glass of orange juice in one hand. There was one last empty chair beside him.

We sat in a silence that lasted a second too long. Blaine was the first to speak.

"Where's our mentor?"

Just then, a crash rang through the wall of the adjacent car. We turned our heads at once as the door opened and the smell of liquor wafted in, followed by a woman I could only assume was our mentor. She clutched a broken bottle; a cut ran across the palm of her other hand. Tossing the bottle into the nearest garbage can and pausing briefly to rinse her bloodied hand in the sink on the wall, she stumbled towards us and sat next to Gino, who cringed at the almost-contact.

"Kurt, Blaine," Gino said, "this is your mentor, Sue Sylvester."

"Victor of the one hundred and fourteenth annual Games," she slurred. To this day, I have no idea how someone can get drunk so quickly. "Now, to business. You two need sponsors. Casper the Feminine Ghost over here," (I rolled my eyes) "has already attracted attention. But that's not enough. I don't know if Hair Gel Helmet is closeted, but I'd bet my largest tub of protein powder that you two are a flaming gay couple. That's good; use it. From now on, sponsors are your best friends. They could literally save your life. This year, anything's allowed, from weapons to blankets. It used to be just food and medicine." For the next hour or so, she proceeded to give us a massive list of strategies. Gino left within minutes, sensing that he wasn't really an important part of the conversation. During the hour, Sue seemed to sober up a bit, her speech becoming clearer and more articulated than its original slur.

Suddenly, everything got dark. The room fell silent. All we could hear was the thu-thump of the train as it moved along the track, pounding out a nervous heartbeat. Barely thirty seconds had passed when we entered the Capitol train station.

Thousands of candy-colored Capitol citizens flooded the station. Half of them were focused on our train, while the other half faced what appeared to be two more tributes: a larger brunette girl and a similarly-built guy with brownish-blond hair. They were being pushed through the crowd by two Peacekeepers and a shockingly neon-colored woman whom I took to be their escort. Gino re-entered the dining car and ushered us to the next car over, then out of the train.

Blaine grabbed my hand and led me through the crowd. We were trailed by the same Peacekeepers who followed Gino, Sue, and the other tributes. Cameras flashed, causing blind spots to mar my vision. Fans grabbed at anything they could reach: my clothes, my hair, whatever would give them contact with me. Blaine smiled and waved to the crowd, and I followed suit. Guys and girls alike squealed when I started blowing kisses to the crowd.

A black stretch limo was waiting for us. The chauffeur opened the door, and as soon as we were all safely inside and the door was shut, Gino turned to us.

"You guys are naturals. I can't remember the last time the Capitol responded to tributes like that. They. LOVE. You."

_I might have a chance!_, I thought. Then I looked at Blaine, and my heart broke all over again.

**Thanks for sticking with me so far! Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Tribute Parade time! YAY! Chapter 4 may be a little delayed, I've been going through some serious writer's block. I have a vague idea but I have no idea how to put it to words.**

**I changed one little thing about the main Hunger Games storyline in this fanfic; the head of the government is the Head Gamemaker. It just makes more sense to me.**

**Thanks for sticking with me so far, and I promise not to abandon this. I'm debating the need for a sequel story, I have some ideas in mind.**

**As always, thanks to Mlle. Moony for being the best Beta ever!  
**

Chapter 3- Don't Rain on My Parade

The ride to the "remake center", as Gino called it, was surprisingly long, considering it was only a few miles from the train station. There was traffic everywhere - mostly foot traffic, as Capitol citizens walked from store to store in packs of three or four, chatting about boyfriends and girlfriends and who-said-what. Oh, and the Games. They were definitely talking about the Games.

Our arrival at the center was the opposite of the train station: no one, besides the Peacekeepers, Sue, and Gino, paid any attention to us. We were rushed inside by a highly anxious Gino, who said something about "running behind schedule" and pushed us through the doors.

I was immediately grabbed and pulled into a separate room by what seemed to be three walking, giggling highlighters, also known as my prep team. After forcing me to strip, put on a robe, and sit down on the prep table, they introduced themselves as Candy, Katt, and Nicki. They giggled and gossiped as they scrutinized every inch of my body, looking for something that wasn't already flawless. For lack of something better to do, they plucked my eyebrows and clear-coated my nails. Katt accidentally-on-purpose messed up my hair, just to fix it. Once Candy sighed and formally declared that they were done, they all left. They were immediately followed by my stylist.

My first impression of him was that he looked relatively normal. His hair was a natural auburn color. He had no contacts that turned his eyes purple or red, he didn't wear bright makeup. He hung the gray garment bag he was holding on a hook next to the door, then sat down next to me.

"Kurt," He sounded confident, as if he had rehearsed this a million times before. "My name's Bryce. Bryce Diamide." He held his hand out for me to shake, and I took it. His surname sounded like a cross between diamond and dynamite. I liked it. "I know this must be scary for you. Actually, I don't know. I'll never know." He sighed. "But I'm here to make this as easy for you as possible. Now, you know the parade is tonight. I have your outfit right here." He stood up and grabbed the garment bag. "Would you like to see it?" I nodded my head, slightly scared. Most parade outfits were really tacky, and a lot of them made no sense. "I wanted an outfit that reflected both your personality and your background. Given the little information I had, I think this is perfect."

He removed the bag. I gasped.

"Kurt... You look... Amazing."

"Well, you look exactly the same, silly!"

"No way. Mine's a different color. I think the red looks so much better on you than the green looks on me."

"Oh, just get over here." I grabbed Blaine by the bowtie (which I did a lot) and pulled him in for a kiss, which he returned. After a moment, someone in the crowd blew a whistle and yelled "Five minutes! Board your chariots!". I took one last look in the mirror and smiled. Both Bryce and Mandy, Blaine's stylist, had outdone themselves. We both perfectly resembled apples, but fashionably so. I had on a deep red suit, with a cream-colored shirt and a brown bowtie. Blaine matched me exactly, but with the bright green of a Granny Smith. Only clothes could make me happy in such a dark situation. He held out his arm to me, which I gratefully took, as we left the mirror behind and found our chariot, the second from the back. Of course.

"One minute 'till departure!" The same voice yelled. "We need silence! We will begin filming in five... four... three... two..."

_"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the opening ceremony of the One Hundred and Fiftieth Annual Hunger Games!"_

The voice of the new Hunger Games spokesperson, Will Schuester, rang out through the crowd. The large doors opened and the first chariot slowly rolled out.

_"To start our parade, Noah Puckerman and Quinn Fabray from District One! Following them, we have Sam Evans and Kitty Wilde from Two! Everyone here looks absolutely fabulous tonight."_

We moved forward a bit. Blaine grabbed my hand.

"_From Three, Finn Hudson and Rachel Berry! Oh, and there's Jake Puckerman and Santana Lopez from Four..."_

We moved forward.

_"From District 5 we have Sunshine Corazon and Ryder Lynn... Mike Chang and Tina Cohen-Chang from Six..."_

Halfway there.

"_Sebastian Smythe and Marley Rose from Seven, followed by Wade 'Unique' Adams and Joe Hart from 8..."_

Two more. Two. More. I could see now that it had started raining while we were getting ready.

_"Brittany Pierce and Artie Abrams from District 9... Lauren Zizes and David Karofsky from 10..."_

"Deep breath..." Blaine whispered in my ear.

_"Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel from District 11!"_

The crowd erupted into cheers when they saw us. It was just like being onstage again, but this was a different kind of performance. Still, my moves came naturally. I smiled, I waved, I blew kisses. Blaine did the same, and when we reached the end of the road, I spun him around and kissed him. Again, the audience screamed and cheered. Will tore his eyes away from us only to murmur a halfhearted:

_"And finally, Rory Flanagan and Mercedes Jones from 12."_

The Head Gamemaker, Ryan Murphy, appeared on the balcony above us, and immediately launched into the annual "Glory and Honor of the Games" speech, to which I pretended to listen. When he was done, the chariots took us back to the training center, where we were met by Gino, Sue, Bryce and Mandy.

"That was amazing." Sue said. She was actually smiling. "My phone has been ringing off the hook, _everyone_ wants to sponsor you two!"

_We might win, we might actually win! _I thought. But then I remembered that Blaine had to lose in order for me to win. My bubble of euphoria popped, and I was left dark and alone again.

**A/N: Reviews make me happy! :D Stay tuned for Chapter 4! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: ****Hi again! I'm really sorry about the delay, it's mostly due to a REALLY bad case of writer's block. I've overcome it now, and I have Chapter 4 for you! YAY! Huzzah! Insert other interjection here!**

**At 1,051 words, according to Word Counter dot Net (for some reason, it's not letting me post the actual site?), this is the longest chapter yet. It also said that the word "Blaine" is in this chapter 18 times. Just a useless piece of trivia, in case you were wondering.**

**As always, thanks to Mlle. Moony, who makes me smile every time she emails me her edits :D!**

**Disclaimer: I just now realized that I never did this. I do not own Glee or The Hunger Games. I wish I did, but I don't. D:**

Chapter 4- Tributes in Training

_"You guys are naturals."_

_"Casper the Feminine Ghost has already attracted attention."_

_"They. LOVE. You."_

_"Sponsors are your best friends. They could literally save your life."_

_"I can't remember the last time the Capitol responded to tributes like that."_

_"Blaine Anderson and Kurt Hummel from District 11!"_

I tossed and turned that night, with only the voices in my memories to keep me company. After what felt like ages, I finally fell asleep, only to be woken up just two hours later by a truly manic Sue, who thought it would be funny to dump cold water on my head and scream, "Get up!".

Blaine, I soon discovered, hadn't slept much either. When I entered the dining room, I noticed that his hair was messier than I had ever seen it. Even the raspberry-scented hair gel he usually wore wasn't enough to tame his wild locks. We were both rushed through breakfast and practically shoved into the elevator that would take us to the training center's basement gym. I barely had time to wish Blaine a quick "Good morning". Most of our competitors were already there when we arrived. Ten minutes later, Karofsky and Lauren (the last two tributes) showed up, and one of the trainers began to speak.

"The rules to the training center are simple: no fighting, harming, maiming, killing, or otherwise - you'll have plenty of time for that in the arena. As you can see, there are trainers at each station to assist you if you have any questions. You may go."

Blaine grabbed my hand and dragged me to the ropes course, where he immediately started to climb. I followed him as we made our way up the rope web, to a narrow beam about ten feet above the training center. I've never been afraid of heights per se (I'd certainly climbed trees higher than this) but looking down as the Careers wielded their swords and knives and bows definitely freaked me out. Blaine led me across the course, and before long we were on our way down, on the opposite side of the gym.

"Do you wanna pick something now?", Blaine whispered in my ear as soon as we were safely on the ground. I nodded my head, grabbed his hand, and led him to the edible plants section, which I quickly passed. Blaine, however, confused nightlock with regular blueberries, which pretty much convinced me that I would be handling our food in the arena. I stood up and left the station once Blaine was done, then turned around to face the rest of the gym. There were so many possibilities...

"Your turn," I looked to my right, hoping to find Blaine. But he was nowhere in sight. I was surrounded by Careers, who alternatively sneered and smiled at me. I couldn't help but feel like a deer facing a pack of hungry lions.

"Kurt Hummel," the Latina girl, Santana, smiled at me. "We've been watching you. A friend of mine told me you already have more sponsors than District 11 has ever had, and you haven't even been scored yet." She chuckled, then continued on. "Basically, what I'm trying to say is, you need to be upgraded. You're too good to be on your own."

"I'm not on my own. Blaine's with me." I glared at her, daring her to make a homophobic joke.

"You don't need him. Come on, let's see what you got." She motioned to the archery station. I shook my head.

"I'm sorry, but I need to find Blaine." I stepped around her and spotted him still at the Edible Plants section, clearly looking for me.

"By the way," Santana whispered in my ear, which made me jump, "I'm your team. Brittany and I hooked up last night. Just thought you should know."

"What-" I turned to find that she was gone already. Blaine was at my side in an instant. He shot me a confused glance. "What did she want?".

"For me to leave you. She wanted me to be a Career. I think it was because of all of our sponsors, she brought that up first. And she's gay, too."

Blaine picked up a few throwing knives and took his place in the target range. "Really? That's interesting. That makes three of us, then. Maybe four, I've had my eye on that Sebastian guy..."

Just then the machine started, and Blaine was throwing knives at shifting dummies that moved all the more quickly as his aim improved. Soon the ground was covered in fake blood and the machine was moving at a frightening pace. Blaine stopped only when he ran out of knives, and then it was my turn. I was good, but nowhere near as good as Blaine had been.

"Where to next?", he asked when I had finished the challenge.

Something caught my eye. Santana was at the archery station, shooting silver arrows at a different set of moving targets. There was something graceful in the way she notched the arrow, pulled back the string, and let it fly. I immediately wanted to try it.

"There," I said to my boyfriend. He took my hand and led me to the area. A kind instructor led me through the basics, and after getting a few bulls-eyes on the stationary targets, I was able to progress to the moving ones. Finally, I had found something that felt natural to me. I hit every shot perfectly, something I felt sure would draw the attention of the gamemakers. Sure enough, I caught Ryan Murphy, the Head Gamemaker, staring at me and smiling as I made yet another head shot.

The second training day passed in a similar manner. Blaine and I took turns selecting stations. While Blaine was overwhelmingly better at the physical and offensive stations, I aced shelter, knots, and all of the other survival courses.

But I found myself continually drifting toward the archery station, hitting kill shots again and again and again until my arms were sore and tired. Sue, however, continually advised against showing our strengths. If they knew what we could do, she warned, it wouldn't be such a surprise to the gamemakers when we went to get scored. I hated the strategy, but I knew she was probably right.

**A/N: I'm going to start putting a list of the remaining tributes at the end of every chapter, just to clarify things a little bit. The names with a {C} are the Careers. Here it is:**

**1. Noah {C} and Quinn {C}**

**2. Sam{C} and Kitty {C}**

**3. Finn and Rachel**

**4. Jake {C}and Santana{C}**

**5. Ryder and Sunshine**

**6. Mike and Tina**

**7. Sebastian {C} and Marley**

**8. Joe and Wade**

**9. Artie and Brittany{C}**

**10. David and Lauren**

**11. Blaine and Kurt**

**12. Rory and Mercedes**

**I'm seeing lots of views but not a lot of **_**re**_**views! PleasepleasepleasePLEASE review! I really wanna know what people think! Even if it's just a smiley face (or a frowny face, depending on if you like the chapter), it'll still make my day! :D**


	5. Not Really Chapter 5

Hello lovely people of the Klainedom!

This is not, as you may have expected, a new chapter. Cue violins and "Everybody Hurts" Vines here.

But seriously, I just started school and I'm in all Honors classes, plus like 3 electives and Chorus after school. Needless to say, I've been busy. I haven't been able to talk to Mlle. Moony lately (If you're reading this- Sorry! I had to delete my text app so whatever you've sent me in the last 3-4 weeks is deleted. Email or PM me, please!)

This, plus a recent Minecraft addiction, have all snowballed into me falling behind. I haven't pre-written any of the chapters, either, but I want to start doing that.

So, for now, I'm putting "Atop an Apple Tree" on hiatus. But don't fret, my lovelies! I shall return!

I'll delete this note when I post Chapter 5.

See you soon!

~MockingjaysAndKlaine~


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